Professor Wayland
by Cresswell Thorne
Summary: All bets are off when Clary's sexy, new professor falls for her.
1. and the First Meeting

_I went back to reread this story and realized that I really hate reading things that are in the first person, and every other thing I've written in my life has been in the third person. So I really wanted to update this, and try to breathe new life into this story, and to hopefully make it more enjoyable for my readers. Admittedly, not much changed except typos and POV in this chapter, but that won't necessarily be true for further chapters. Also, the chapters are now named and follow the style of 'Proffesor Wayland and..."_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing!_

* * *

The sun shines brightly through her curtains, a ray of light piercing her last moments of sleep. Rolling over, Clary grabs for her phone to check the time. 8:15am. Late. She is already late.

As quickly as she can, she pulls on her jeans and tosses on a t-shirt that had been laying on the rumpled bed. With no time for much else she throws her hair into a bun and runs to the front door. Feeling as if she's forgetting something, she rushes to the bathroom to brush her teeth. '_God, I'm a mess_,' she thinks to herself as she glances in the mirror.

15 minutes and almost a mile later, Clary is pulling open the door to room 331C with just a moment to spare. She breathes a quick sigh of relief that she's not late and notes that there are very few students in the room and no professor in sight. However, sitting in the front row is a disgruntled Simon, her best friend, glowering menacingly in her direction. She can only pray he hadn't waited very long for her this morning at the coffee shop, where she hadn't shown.

Making her way towards him, she nonchalantly smiles and says hello.

"Well, at least you came to class." His voice is hard, but his face has relaxed. She gives him a light punch in the shoulder and takes the seat next to him. And they are both hoping their professor won't make them move into assigned seating.

"I'm sorry I missed our date at Taki's this morning. I was so late waking up," she glances at Simon apologetically, hoping to earn his forgiveness and maybe even a smile. "It's not a big deal," he waves it off. "I know you were out late last night at your moms gallery opening." It was true, her mom had been working for months on an exhibit and last night she finally was able to have her debut. Last night had been exhausting for the both of them, and to make matters worse they hadn't arrived home until well after midnight. At least her showing had been a success, she sold all put one painting. That painting though, hadn't been for sale.

"Speaking of last night, where were you?" Clary questions. Simon was supposed to come and support her mom, but had never shown up. His face colors with a blush and he ducks his head. Before she can question him further on the matter the door to the classroom swings open and a veritable god steps into the room. He is gorgeous. Clary's pulse quickens and, in her haste to sit up straight, almost falls out of her chair. Simon grasps her arm, "Are you okay?"

Embarrassed, she nods slightly and turns her attention back to the man in the doorway. With a quick smile he addresses the class with a wave and moves to the desk in the far corner of the room. He picks up a stack of papers and passes them down the front row.

"My name is Professor Wayland and what I am passing out is a quiz to test your knowledge of World History." He pointedly ignores the groans and the eye rolls and continues, "When everyone has their quiz please direct your attention to the projector and follow the prompts on the screen. After you've finished bring it to me and I'll grade it" The sound of the projector whirring to life fills the otherwise silent room and Clary tries to focus solely on the sheet of paper in front of her. However, her gaze continues to wander to the god, who is now sitting quietly behind his desk.

Every nerve ending in her body is affected by his presence. Clary quickly finishes the quiz and basically runs it to him. As she turns to go he holds up his hand, "Stay. I'll grade it right now." She nervously twists the ring on her thumb as his eyes scan the paper. He takes a swig of water, and she watches, mesmerized, as his Adam's apple bobs. His eyes, she notices immediately, appear to be bright swirls of gold. She blinks as they rise to meet her own and a grin spreads across his face. "Nicely done," he says, handing her back the paper that now has a stark red '_Perfect_' across the top. A feeling of accomplishment flows through her as she turns to go back to her seat, noting that she was still the only one done.

She watches the golden professor as he watches the other students with concern. His brow furrows and he runs a hand through his long, blonde locks. All of a sudden, his eyes jerk and met hers, again, across the room. Her body suddenly feels overly warm and by the time she regains her thoughts he has already looked away. Slowly students begin to rise from their chairs to turn in their papers. After what seems like an eternity everyone is finally done.

"Now that everyone has completed the quiz I would like to split you into groups." Annoyed, she twists towards Simon who, in turn, rolls his eyes. They hate working in groups. Every group that they'd ever been a part of had been terrible, as they always ended up doing all the work. "I am not going to split you up based on anything except where you are seated. So the first five people in each row are in a group and the the next five people are in group number two and so on. Please figure it out."

Everyone seems to scramble into their groups to talk quietly amongst themselves. Professor Wayland then goes on to explain the project that they will be working on for the rest of the semester.

When Professor Wayland dismisses class Simon and Clary decide to head back to her mom's apartment until their next class. She planned on grilling him on where he had been last night, but not before she got some food in her system. Skipping breakfast, while not by choice, had been a big mistake. Walking in to the apartment she sees that her mom is still asleep in a chair. And Clary thought _she_ slept in late, but her mom definitely has a leg up on her. Clary quietly ushers Simon to the kitchen to make a bagel and egg sandwich.

"Can I please get some coffee?" Simon asks almost silently. "Professor 'What's-his-face' nearly put me to sleep this morning."

"I can't believe the difference between him and his sister," he mutters it almost as an afterthought, but Clary still catches it. "His sister?" She raises an eyebrow. Much like earlier in class, his face turns bright red.

Now, however, there is no hot professor to stop Clary's line of questioning. "Simon, who is his sister?"

"No one. I just met her briefly, she was in the Brusar's Office when I went to try and drop her brothers class. She… talked me out of it." He stands up smiling to himself. Clary's mind is whirring, Simon might be into this girl who, coincidentally, has the hottest brother on the planet.

"Do you like her?"

"I barely even know her!" He retorts, "I'd like to _get _to know her though. She was smokin'. That's who I was with last night actually. I really am sorry I missed the showing."

Clary has never heard him say that about someone before. Normally, Simon is so, well, awkward and doesn't really pay attention to girls. Except for her, but thankfully she had prevented that infatuation before it had gotten ugly. She supposes it's a good thing, he's never really connected with anyone. In the back of her mind she decide that she is, somehow, going to get them together. But, she doesn't even know this girls name, and she can only hope that she's not out of his league.

"No, it's okay. I guess we're equal now that I stood you up this morning. Although, in my defense, I was completely exhausted."


	2. and the Sister

_I was planning on updating this throughout the day, but I got distracted by the trick-o-treaters. Man, they got an early start today. I added just an itty-bitty bit to this chapter to give a little insight into Clary's growing feelings/lust for Jace. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing!_

* * *

After _days_ of harassment, Clary finally winds up getting Simon to tell her who his mystery girl is. Isabelle Lightwood. She's confused at first, she thought she was looking for a girl with the last name Wayland, but Simon tells her that Isabelle's parents had adopted Jace. At Clary's further confusion, Simon explains that Jace is Professor Wayland. It was suddenly all making sense.

When Isabelle just so happened to be in Clary's psychology class, she was borderline ecstatic. Now, she could get Isabelle and Simon together or at least get them hanging out. During their first class, Isabelle had sat right next to Clary and announced, rather excitedly, that they were going to be best friends. As it turned out, Simon had gotten to know Isabelle a lot better than he had let on. And she him.

Isabelle not only seemed to know about Clary, but also knew who she was before she had even introduced herself. This was going to be easier than she had originally thought.

The following Thursday, Clary walks into her psych class, late as always, and spots Isabelle waiting for her. "Why are you late?" Isabelle asks with a raised brow.

"Oh, you know, I was getting ready." She gives Clary a dubious twice over and shakes her head. "If you say so." Clary hits her arm. She's so blunt, she can understand why Simon likes her though. Isabelle is gorgeous, funny, and, to top it all off, smart. Maybe even smarter than Simon.

"So, what are you doing this weekend," Isabelle asks.

"I don't know, Simon and I may go to this art exhibit with my mom. Do you want to go with us?"

"As fun as that sounds… I have something else in mind. Why don't you come stay the weekend with me?"

"I don't know Isabelle. My mom is kind of weird about stuff like that."

"No, come on you have to! Would it be better if your mom met me?" It probably would, but Clary's not sure her mom will be up for it. And when she really thinks about it, her mom is weird about people coming over to the apartment too. And she figures that her mom really needs to get over being so untrusting. Meeting one of Clary's friends will be good, she really only knows Simon.

"Okay, maybe you should come over after class and meet my mom."

"Great, because I have some big plans for this weekend!"

The first thing that pops into Clary's mind is whether or not Isabelles' brother will make an appearance over the weekend. But she shrugs the thought off as silly and borderline inappropriate. Especially after the wildly inappropriate dream she had had about him the night before. The one that had her furiously rubbing herself to completion, before rushing to class. Yeah, it was best to steer clear of any thoughts regarding her professor.

Although, she recognized the fact that she couldn't control her dreams.

An hour and a half later, they are bursting through the apartment door, takeout Chinese in tow. The first thing Clary notices is that her mom isn't home. She rolls her eyes, of course she isn't. They settle on the couch and spread out the food on the coffee table. The smell is intoxicating, and Clary realizes she hasn't eaten all day.

"So, can I ask you something?" Isabelle bats her eyes pleadingly.

"Yeah, of course." Clary mutters with a mouth full of lo mein. Part of her is almost concerned at the sound of Isabelle's voice, but she's much too focused on the food in front of her to ask if she's okay.

They sit for a few moments in silence, Isabelle seems to be working up the courage to ask her question. Clary gives her a confused glance and she sucks in her breath.

"Is Simon seeing anyone?" She finally blurts out, practically shouting.

Just then, the door swings open banging against the wall. Clary's mom stands in the doorway, keys in her mouth, hands filled with canvases and grocery bags. She drops everything and barks out a laugh.

"What's funny mom?"

"The thought of Simon dating anyone!"


	3. and the Weekend

_Disclaimer: I own nothing!_

* * *

That Saturday, a threatening storm is blowing through the city and Isabelle and Clary are trudging through the rain from the apartment to Isabelle's parents house. They giggle as they run through puddles, getting themselves soaked. Isabelle grabs her hand and pulls her onto the sidewalk, taking off running. Clary tries to keep up, but they are suddenly coming to a stop.

Catching her breath, Clary glances up. In front of her is one of the most beautiful homes she has ever seen in the city. It's odd to see something this large as a single family home here. Her and her mom share an apartment that's barely over 1000 square feet. Clary wonders to herself if, perhaps, Isabelle has taken her somewhere else besides her house.

"Where are we?"

"My house silly! Where else would we be?" Isabelle rolls her eyes at Clary and grabs her hand as she opens the front door of the house. Clary glances down and is horrified to see the sorry state of her clothes.

"Oh Isabelle, we are a wreck. I would hate to meet your parents looking like this."

"Don't worry Clary, we can go get cleaned up and changed in my room. Besides, they're out of the country on business." Isabelle nods to the grand, spiraling staircase and they head up. The inside of her room is exactly what Clary was expecting. Flimsy, dark colored scarves are hung across the ceiling and a chandelier shaped like a ship is hanging over her bed. There are two doors inside, one leading to a bathroom, and the other, presumably, to her closet. Clothes are strewn over the unmade bed, but, besides that, the room seems to be in perfect order.

Isabelle hurries to the bathroom and Clary wanders over to the desk and picks up a picture frame of Isabelle and two boys that are possibly a few years older than her. In the photo, Isabelle is squished in a hug between them, all three of them in winter coats in the snow.

"Here take this," Clary looks up in time to see Isabelle tossing her a towel. Appreciatively, she quickly runs the towel over her arms and rings out her dripping hair.

"Thanks," she says, nodding.

Isabelle plucks the picture from her hands and giggles. "Handsome aren't they?" The boys in the picture certainly are good looking, but she dares not agree. "My brothers," she adds quickly. Clary nods and steps away, running her now empty fingers across the desk. The blonde boy in the picture was definitely her professor and, coincidentally, the object of her erotic dream the previous morning. A chill sweeps through the room and she realizes that she's still soaked through.

"Iz, is there any way I could borrow some clothes. I didn't realize I left my bag at home." She is instantly frustrated, because now she has nothing but her cellphone.

"Of course! Come on, I'll help you pick something out."

When she pulls her into the enormous closet Clary cowers at the selection. Nothing in here is really her style. There's anything and everything you could ever hope to wear to a club in the form of slinky dresses and revealing tops, heels she couldn't possibly walk in, and no jeans in sight. Her typical ensemble is slightly messy; torn jeans, a t-shirt, and crazy hair. She doesn't see that particular look in Isabelle's closet.

"Here, you can wear this. It's perfect, we'll go down and have dinner and then go to that bar I was telling you about." In her hands is a dress Clary thinks she can't possibly pull off, it's lacy and revealing and she hasn't even put it on yet.

"I'm not sure abo-" she's cut off by Isabelle's glare.

"Well, I'm sure. Go put it on and I'll find you some shoes to go with it, because you can't wear those." She looks down at Clary's Converse shaking her head as she says this. Clary scurries to the bathroom to finish drying off, glancing waywardly at the dress. She resigns herself to an evening of torture and pulls the dress on. She's pleasantly surprised to see that it does look good on her, but that doesn't make her any more comfortable in it.

She walks back into Isabelle's room and finds her holding the most uncomfortable looking shoes known to man. Isabelle has changed as well and, as always, looks amazing in her tight crop top and low rise jeans.

"I never knew you had a belly button piercing," Clary says, gesturing to her midriff.

Rolling her eyes she tosses the shoes to Clary, "Put those on and let's go, I'm starving," and she complies, but only because she's starving too.

"I cannot pull this off Iz." Clary states, as they walk down the stairs to the kitchen, while trying desperately to tug the dress down to an appropriate length. "Oh nonsense, you look great," she replies. "I look like a hooker!" Clary tries to plead and Izzy gives her a withering glare. "Easy now, those are my clothes." Clary laughs, nodding her acquiescence. Izzy swats Clary's butt and pulls her into the kitchen.

Her kitchen is beautiful with a vaulted ceiling and tall windows across the back wall. Lightning cracks across the sky and it's followed by an earth shaking rumble of thunder. Isabelle wanders to the chic, stainless steel fridge.

"It doesn't look like the storm is letting up Iz. Do you think it's a good idea to go out in this?"

"No, it's probably not, but we're still going to." Laughing, they pull out stuff for dinner. Isabelle admits she's an abysmal cook, so Clary volunteers to make dinner if Izzy can keep her entertained. Just as she sets a pot of water on the stovetop to boil the lights flicker. Iz squeaks and hops down from her perch on the counter. The lights flicker again and then shut off completely and Iz throws herself into Clary's arms.

"You big baby, get off me!" Clary squeals indignantly, not really meaning it.

Lights flash through the ceiling high windows in the front room and Izzy jumps behind her.

"Do you have any candles Iz?"

"I'm not sure, there's a flashlight in the drawer though." Before either of them can make a move for the flashlight the front door slams open followed by a string of curses. They cling to each other in fear and Clary would later swear that her heart had come to a dead stop. Isabelle lets out a whimper so Clary clamps her hand over her mouth to silence her. A bright light sweeps across the kitchen and they both duck down. Clary pulls the death traps Iz calls shoes off, just in case they have to make a run for it, and grabs the knife she was using off the counter behind her.

"Hello?" A masculine voice calls out, a voice Clary thinks she knows. Isabelle struggles next to her to stand up and Clary tugs her back down and shushes her.

"Mom? Dad? Where is everyone?" The voice calls out again. Clary is confused now and not truly processing what's going on. But Isabelle stands up, shaking Clary's hands from her. As she does so, the lights come back on.

"Jace?" Isabelle says angrily.

Clary looks up and sure enough her gorgeous history professor is standing in the now brightly lit kitchen. Soaking wet and clutching a flashlight to his chest. Isabelle runs up to him and starts beating against his chest. "You scared us half to death you beast! Look, Clary even grabbed a knife to fend you off," she shrieks gesturing toward her. She lets out a shaky breath, suddenly feeling very foolish.

"Well, I'm glad someone was here to protect you. What was your plan Iz. Stab me with those heels you have on?"

"Very funny, God I hate you right now. My heart will never recover." She slaps him again.

"You're so dramatic,"Jace rolls his eyes. "What are you guys doing dressed like that?" he grabs the hem of Iz's top and snaps it against her skin, "It's indecent."

"Clary tried to talk me out of it but, after she makes dinner, we were going to go grab a drink at that new bar down the road."

Iz looks to Clary, shrugs and glances back to her brother. "Did you just say 'After she makes dinner?' Iz?" Jace raises an eyebrow. "Yes, I did. You know I'm a terrible cook." Jace scoffs, nodding his head in agreement.

"Still it's terribly rude to have your guest cook for you sis', and we've been so rude ignoring her and bickering!"

"No, really Professor it's okay I volunteered to cook. She's already told me horror stories about her food." She laughs. "Clary, out of class you don't have to call me 'professor' Jace will do. You two could have just ordered takeout." Clary blushes furiously and Iz looks between them questioningly.

"Oh, well, I already sort of started cooking."

"Yes, Clary is making Greek chicken and potatoes for us!" Iz says excitedly. Clary isn't really sure why she's excited, it's a pretty simple meal. "I haven't had anything but takeout since mom and dad left _three_ days ago Jace." Iz whines, whirling around to face him.

"What are you doing here anyway?" At his glare, she adds, "Not that I'm not happy to see you, I just wouldn't think you would be free on a Saturday night. Didn't you have plans with your girlfriend?"

"I lost power and thought I would come see mom and dad and… sleep here. And, for the record, she is not my girlfriend and we aren't even sort of seeing each other." With that Jace brushes his hair out of his face and snags a water from the fridge.

"Why don't you stay anyway. I know you came to see mom, but you still don't have power. You can eat with us, if that's okay with Clary."

They glance over at her and she nods. "Only if you give me an A in your class though." Jace barks out a laugh, "You are my star student, you already have an A! I'm starving though, so please, cook away."

After 45 minutes of cooking, the food is finally ready and Clary thanks God, because she is about ready to eat her own hand. They settle into the stools at the island and dig in, not really saying much, just enjoying the food, when the lights go out again.

"God damn it!" Izzy stabs her fork down and, accidentally, sinks it into Clary's left hand between the thumb and pointer finger. Clary screams out in surprise and begins to frantically wave her hand.

"What the hell Iz? That's my hand, oh my God there's a fork in my hand!" Clary falls to the ground in pain, desperately yanking the offending object out of her skin, flinging it across the room. Instantly, she feels the trickle of blood escaping her veins. In the distance, someone is rummaging around and there's a beacon of light suddenly shining towards Clary. Izzy is frantically clasping Clary's injured hand, but all she can focus on is the light. "I can't believe you stabbed me Iz." Her hand doesn't really hurt as much as the initial shock had made it seem though. She takes a few deep breaths to clam herself down, listening to Izzy apologizing profusely, nearly bordering on hysterics.

"Iz, Iz it's okay," she assures her.

Jace grabs her hand and she realizes that the flashlight in his hand was the source of light that was shining on her moments before. As Jace instructs Izzy on where to find the gauze he leads Clary to the sink and rinses it off. "Here," Jace hands her a dish towel, "Wrap this tightly around your hand until Izzy comes back."

"Thanks, I feel a little light headed," she manages, basically panting.

"It's probably just shock. Take a few deep breaths." Inhaling deeply, she does as he says. Her eyes flutter closed and when she opens them again Izzy is back and cleaning the wound. The cleansing wipe burns against the gouge, and she sucks in a breath between clenched teeth, while Izzy gives her a sympathetic smile.

"Do you think we need to take her to the E.R.?" Izzy mutters to Jace and he tells her the wound seems pretty superficial so they'll just wrap it up. A moment after they begin cutting the gauze, they can hear the whirring of electricity and the lights are back on. "Thank God," they all say in unison. Jace grabs Clary's hand and begins examining it before Izzy snatches it away from him, bringing her thumb close to her face. She rips the scratched and tarnished ring off of Clary's thumb and lets her hand drop to her lap.

"What's this?" she demands.

Clary's face flushes deeply. "A ring, obviously." And Clary hopes she accepts that answer and doesn't question her any further about it. Telling anybody about the ring and, more importantly, the meaning behind it is the _last _thing she wants to do.

Clearly Izzy is _not_ satisfied, because she glares at Clary and states, "Obviously it's more than a ring Clary. It's engraved." Clary buries her face in her hands, wincing slightly when she brushes against the wound. "Iz please," she begs. "It's nothing."

"It says '_I'll wait for you -S'. _Who the hell is 'S'?" Clary watches as her face falls, "It's Simon isn't it? I thought you said you weren't involved with him, you swore!" Clary's heart is racing and she lays a placating hand on her thigh, but she shakes it off.

"Wait, wait, wait…" Jace is waving his hands, as if to get their attention. "Isn't Simon your boyfriend?" The question is clearly directed at Clary, and she shakes her head frantically, reaching out to Izzy. "You know there's nothing between Simon and me. The 'S' is someone else entirely."


	4. and the Weekend (Part Two)

_Disclaimer: I own nothing!_

* * *

"So, who is he, it is a 'he' right?" Groaning, Clary shoots Izzy a look that hopefully says '_I don't want to talk about this.'_ Because she really doesn't, especially not in front of her professor. She is _already_ embarrassed about Izzy's earlier outburst. "Of course it's a 'he' don't be stupid. I really don't think this is a good time to talk about this though. I'd really appreciate it if we could get my hand wrapped up…" She pleads and turns to Jace, silently asking him to back her up.

"She's right Iz, leave her alone and help me get her hand taken care of." She nods at them both and grabs the gauze again.

After she wraps up Clary's hand she pats it tenderly and pulls her into a tight hug. "I can't breathe!" Clary halfheartedly shoves her away, but she just latches on tighter. "I'm so, so sorry Clary, I really didn't mean to hurt you."

"I know you didn't Iz, but if you want to make it up to me you could lend me some pajamas, because this is the most uncomfortable dress I've ever worn." She plucks at the fabric and it snaps back to her skin.

"Wait, we aren't going out?" She pouts.

"Umm, no Iz, we aren't going anywhere. You're ridiculous."

"But we look so good!"

"Maybe you do, but I look terrible, especially with this." She waves her bandaged hand in Izzy's face for emphasis. Jace snorts behind them and Clary whirls around to see a disbelieving look on his face. "Fine," Izzy says, defeated, and pulls her upstairs to her room. And starts rummaging around until she pulls out the most ridiculous pair of pajamas Clary has ever seen. It's a shorts and cami set; black satin with cream colored lace adorning the edges.

She tosses it to Clary and pulls something else out of her drawer. Clary stands and watches, dismayed, as she undresses and whips a scandalous nightie over her head. Clary gapes and looks back at the set she had been given.

"I can't wear this Iz. There's almost nothing to these and your brother, my history _professor_, is here. No, don't you have something else." She feels as if she's practically begging her. "No, you can wear those or I'll trade you." Clary shakes her head vehemently at the new suggestion. "That's what I thought, besides, I'm at least four inches taller than you. They won't be nearly as revealing on you."

Izzy's statement does little to comfort her, but she doesn't really have any other option. Slowly, she peels the dress away from her skin and pulls it over her head, She decides to leave her bra and panties on, afraid she'll feel even more exposed without them. Turning around Clary heads towards the full length mirror by Izzy's bed. She groans loudly at her reflection as Izzy sweeps back into the room.

"I look like a prostitute." Clary tells her pointedly.

"No, you don't. Calm down, you look great."

"I don't want to look 'great' I want to be covered up and go to sleep." Iz rolls her eyes at her and hands her another satiny garment. She unfolds it and appraises the satin kimono she's just been handed. It doesn't appear to be any longer than where the shorts hit, but at least she can wrap it across her highly exposed cleavage.

"Put that on then, don't you want to look good for my brother?" Clary glances back at her as she yanks on the kimono, tying it roughly around her body. "Seriously?" She nods and Clary snorts. "No, he's my _teacher_ Iz."

Of course that doesn't mean she doesn't want to look good in front of him, but she feels like they have a respectful teacher/student relationship and she doesn't want to jeopardize that, no matter how hot she thinks he is.

"Oh, who cares? I think it would be funny to watch him pant after you." Clary is in utter disbelief, she cannot process the ridiculousness that is pouring out of Isabelle's mouth. "Well I don't, and he won't anyway. God Izzy you're demented." Clary playfully smacks her arm, after she sends a dramatic pout her way.

"Come on Clary, live a little! I know you must think he's hot. Everyone thinks he's hot."

"Iz, please stop." She clasps the kimono tighter to her chest.

"Oh, fine," she huffs. "Let's go back downstairs, oh we could watch a movie!" They head back down to the kitchen to find Jace sitting back at the counter biting into an apple. Clary watches, mesmerized, as juice dribbles down his chin and he wipes at it roughly with the back of his hand. Izzy saunters ahead of her, plopping down next to her brother and he looks up and grimaces. Clary watches as he takes in the nightgown she's wearing; scarlet red satin that hits her mid thigh, with peekaboo lace. And he looks pissed.

"Isabelle," he jerks to his feet and pulls her up with him. "What on earth are you wearing. Haven't you ever heard of flannel, it's barely 40 degrees outside. Do you parade around in outfits like this in front of mom and dad? Don't you own a robe or something?" Jace's face is pure rage.

"Mom and daddy don't care. Well, mom probably does, but she'd never say it. And yes, I do own a robe, but Clary's wearing it." She gestures over to where Clary is standing with her arms resting on the counter. "She thought the pajamas I lent her were too, what did you say? Oh, yes 'revealing' so I let her borrow my robe. See?"

"Yes, I do see." Jace mutters darkly as he eyes Clary. And she feels as if his stare is searing right through her and she looks down at her hand, examining the bandage with rapt attention. She feels extremely uncomfortable, but Izzy seems oblivious to her plight, Clary shivers almost violently as the air vent above her kicks on. It was downright frigid in the kitchen, she can feel the goosebumps breakout over her arms. She sits down on the stool Izzy abandoned, rubbing her good hand down her arm to soothe away the bumps prickling her skin.

"Izzy, look at her she's freezing!" Jaces' attention is solely on her shivering frame and she opens her mouth to say something, possibly in Izzy's defense, but she doesn't get the chance. "I have some flannel pajama pants from Uni you can borrow in my room. I'll be right back" Jace says and he turns to leave the kitchen.

"I-I-"

"She's _fine_ Jace!" Izzy slams her hand on the granite countertop. Clary doesn't know what to do, so she stands there dumbly and watches Jace flick his wrist in annoyance and walk out of the kitchen. Izzy shrugs as if to say '_I don't know what his problem is.' _as the sound of Jace's heavy steps fill the house. He returns moments later with a worn pair of flannels and pushes them roughly into Clary's hands.

"Put those on. They will be too long, but just roll them up. There's a bathroom down the hall." He gestures and Clary acquiesces to his request and hurries down the hall.

_"What is your problem?" _She hears Izzy practically screech.

_"What's my problem? What's _your_ problem? Izzy what are you playing at?" _Comes Jace's angry reply. Clary sucks in a deep breath, pushes open the bathroom door and secures it behind her, wondering at Izzy and Jace's heated exchange. She slips off the skimpy sleep shorts Iz had given her, replacing them with the infinitely more comfortable pants Jace provided. Deftly, she rolls the hems up, '_Geez,_' she thinks. _'These are way too big for me.' _She's almost afraid to go back out there, but she knows that she can't stay in the bathroom all night.

Taking a deep breath, Clary walks back to the kitchen to find Jace and Izzy glaring at each other in silence.

"See, much better," Jace remarks and Clary bites her lip and mutters her thanks. He nods back at her, but she notices Izzy is sulking. "Well, I guess we could go down to the basement and watch that movie now. Jace?"

"Hmm, oh yeah. Sounds good, let's go."

"So," Izzy starts as they make their way down the steps to the basement. "What did you do with the fork I speared you with anyway?"

Chuckling, she shrugs, "I don't know, I just ripped it out of my hand and threw it." They all laugh at that and she finds herself looking at the biggest basement she has ever seen in New York as Izzy flips the lights on. The basement is finished with dark, hardwood and walls lined with white built-in bookshelves with a large T.V. in the center. A large aubusson rug lays over the floor and there is a coffee table in the middle of it and a couch and chair facing the T.V. Izzy makes her way to turn the T.V. on and Clary gingerly seats herself on the floor and rests her head against the arm of the couch.

Izzy shoots Clary a weird look and asks, "Do you think I should throw it away? No offense Clary, but it's kind of gross that it was in your hand."

"Throw it away?" Clary jokes, "I need it as evidence for your trial!" Iz sticks her tongue out at her and halfheartedly tosses a pillow at Clary's head. "Did you see that?" Clary questions Jace, "Sticking a fork in me wasn't enough, now she has to hurl objects at me." She smirks at Izzy and gingerly tosses the pillow back at her.

"Yeah, sis I don't think you stand much of a chance against the both of us as witnesses. You're definitely going to jail for this!" Jace and Clary practically cackle at the look on her face.

"God, I would _not_ do well in prison."

"That's the understatement of the year." Jace and Clary say in sync, glancing at each other questioningly. Clary feels her heart beat pickup and is floored by how easily they have fallen into this joking friendship and teasing of Izzy. In class he had always been so serious, bordering on dry, and she had never once heard him crack a joke, but tonight he seems to be on a roll. She supposes she shouldn't be surprised, everyone acts differently outside of a classroom.

"What do you guys want to watch?" Izzy asks. Clary shrugs and risks a glance at Jace, to find him already looking at her. She turns away quickly, wondering if she's blushing.

"Fine, I'll pick…" Izzy scans the shelf and pulls out a DVD case with a creepy looking doll on it. "Does '_Dead Silence'_ sound good? Great!" She opens the case and slides it into the DVD player. As the previews begin to roll she sits down on the couch right above her and fiddles with her hair and Jace flops down onto the chair beside Clary.

"So… Clary, do you think _now_ is a better time to talk about that ring?" Her heart plummets into her stomach and she sinks further into the couch. Grunting noncommittally, she gives her a look to say she's going to have to try harder than that.

"You know I think we need popcorn…" Jace starts.

"Agreed. I'll go get it." Clary hops up off the floor only for Izzy to push her gently back down. "No, you're gravely injured and you're the guest. I'll get it." They watch as Izzy traipses away quickly and Clary huffs with frustration and sinks further down onto the floor.

"God, she's such a spaz," Jace sits up straighter in the chair and he continues, "I can't believe she actually stabbed you. Why are you friends with her?"

"It was an accident… I hope, otherwise I might need to fear for my life. Although, I was already starting to when she freaked out about Simon. I thought she was going to claw my eyes out." She chuckles, wondering if she should be telling him this.

"Ah, I wondered if it was just me that thought that. She… likes Simon right?" Jace questions.

"Uhmm…"

"Right. She probably wouldn't appreciate you telling her protective older brother about who she's in love with this week. It's funny though, I really thought you were dating him."

Clary visibly shudders, "Ugh, Simon and me. Gross." At his amused expression she corrects herself. "I mean, not that he's not a great guy, but no I'm sorry gross. He's been my best friend since birth basically. Plus, he's in love with your sister anyway."

"My sister Isabelle and not his best friend, huh? Misread that one. How's your hand by the way?" And she appreciates the not-so-subtle shift in conversation.

At the mention of her hand she realizes it's gone a bit numb, "To be honest I've kind of lost feeling in it." She tries to shake it to get the blood pumping, but he stands up and holds it still. "Isabelle probably wrapped it too tight. I'll fix it."

She feels instant relief as he unwinds the bandage, it had definitely been wrapped too tightly. A strange sensation coils in her stomach at his proximity and she feels as if she should step away, but she finds herself rooted in place. Carefully, he wraps the gauze back around her hand, using the small hook to keep it from slipping and turns her hand over to examine it. Using his index finer, he trails it under the bandage, presumably to ensure it's not too tightly wound. His direct contact with her skin is distractingly pleasant, the electric feeling of skin-to-skin contact sending blood rushing to her cheeks.

Jace looks at her, seemingly ready to say something, when Izzy bounds down the stairs holding what could only be burnt popcorn. The pungent smell manages to become Clary's primary focus and she shakes her head, moving to step away from Jace.

"You can't even make popcorn Iz?" Clary gently extracts her hand from Jaces' and takes the bowl Izzy is holding, heading towards the stairs.

"Make two packages please! Ooh and could you melt some butter too?" Izzy shouts after her. She laughs to herself, idly wondering why Izzy had even bothered trying to cook something, even something as simple as popcorn, when they all knew it would have bad results.

Clary makes her way to the kitchen, locates the popcorn box Izzy had left on the counter, and sets about making the popcorn. She disposes of the burnt remnants of Izzys' batch and grabs two bowls big enough to hold their movie snacks and takes a few pats of soft butter to coat the insides of the bowls with. When the microwave beeps she makes another bag of popcorn and pours the popped bag into a bowl, tossing it gently around to coat it with the butter.

"That smells much better than my attempt." Izzy takes a seat at her long since abandoned stool at the counter.

"Yes, well I should hope so."

"Thanks for being so great about everything," Clary nods absentmindedly, wondering at her words. "Jace had a good point, I really don't know why you put up with me." Her tone almost sounds dejected, Clary had no idea she was feeling in anyway upset about the fork incident.

"I-I, wait, you heard that? I thought you were up here."

"Well, yeah I was, but I was worried about leaving you two down there. I didn't want you to be uncomfortable! I was heading back down to have you come up with me when I heard your conversation and I was going to go back up, satisfied you were getting on alright, but I stopped when I heard what he said and I-," she stops and takes a breath, "I am so, so sorry for being a raving lunatic today. I am really grateful for you putting up with my antics and my ass of a brother."

"Oh, you're ridiculous." Clary walks up to her stool and wraps her arms tightly around Isabelle. "I am happy to put up with you, you're the best girl friend I've ever had. Plus, you have to put up with my shit too, so I say we're even."

Iz laughs, "Yeah, I guess you're right. Oop, popcorns done. Let's get back downstairs before Jace starts moaning and groaning about how long he's been waiting."

They finish in the kitchen and head back downstairs to enjoy the rest of the night. And they did, the movie scared the girls witless and Clary found herself somehow sitting tensely throughout the entire picture, fully aware that they had been unable to fall back into the comfortable camaraderie they'd had earlier in the evening. Wondering at the feelings Jaces' touch had stirred in her.


	5. and the Morning After the Storm

_Disclaimer: I own nothing!_

* * *

The following morning finds both girls sprawled across the aubusson rug, huddling closely together. Clary immediately notes that the chair Jace was occupying the night before has been abandoned and the pillow has been straightened. Her stomach growls and she looks over at Izzy, noticing a pool of drool on the rug by her mouth. Grimacing slightly, Clary wipes at her own mouth, and decides not to disturb Izzys' sleep, and heads upstairs with the intention of making breakfast.

When she reaches the top of the stairs she reads the clock hanging over the doorframe,_ 9:30, _that's not good. She was supposed to check in with her mom this morning. Clary sends her mom a quick text, surprised she hasn't tried to contact her yet, and meanders into the kitchen. On the counter are three plates covered in aluminum foil with a note addressed to Iz. Clary peaks under the covers on the plates and finds freshly cooked bacon, toast, and scrambled eggs. She grasps the note in her hand, mentally waring with herself over whether or not to read it, deciding that it's just a note and Iz would most likely read it to her anyway, she unfolds it.

_Isabelle,_

_Good morning, I hope that you don't sleep too late, mostly because I don't want the breakfast I made to get cold. Luckily for you, I cooked so you don't have to go out, or make your guest cook. Which is RUDE by the way. If you want to meet for lunch let me know, I have some papers to grade but I will be free this afternoon I hope. Aren't you glad you didn't go out last night? You would be hungover right now, but, instead, you are going to wakeup refreshed, well maybe not considering your position on the floor, but still. Anyway, enjoy your breakfast I hope to see you later._

_\- Jace_

_P.S. Tell Clary I hope her hand feels better. I still can't believe you did that._

Heart pounding, Clary places the note back, quickly ensuring Izzy didn't see her read it and grabs a plate of food. Why would he even mention her or her hand? Ugh, and why is his handwriting so much neater than hers. It's sharp and concise; much like him. Hers is loopy and artistic, which she supposes is a great representation of her own personality. But still.

She pulls out a stool and sits, enjoying her bacon.

The food is pretty good, at least it's better than at home, her mom always burns the bacon and the toast. She says it's 'not burnt' it's 'golden brown', but it's always bordering on black, so Clary can really appreciate perfectly cooked breakfast foods.

"Good morning! Did you make breakfast?" Clary jerks back at the sound of Izzy's voice, grasping her uninjured hand to her racing heart.

"Geez, you scared me. Uh, no I didn't."

She gives Clary a strange look, but does't question her, moving to get a plate. After she helps herself to some food she takes the seat next to her, completely ignoring the note, although Clary knows very well that she saw it.

"So," she says between bites of bacon. "I let you off the hook last night because my idiot brother was here, but now he's not so spill. What's with the engraved ring?"

Clary lets out a piteous moan and sags her head in defeat.

"I knew you wouldn't be able to let it go." She shoots Clary a triumphant look as she spins the ring around her thumb. "Look it's stupid. I don't even know why I still wear it. It's not like it really means anything… anymore."

"No one goes around wearing a ring that's in that bad of shape, not to mention _engraved_, without it meaning something. No. And it's clear that you wear it all the time." She plucks the ring off Clarys' finger, examining it closely. "It's a mess. I really don't know how I never noticed it before."

"Okay, I mean, you're right. It's just… it's kind of embarrassing." Izzy waves her hand in a motion Clary can only take to mean 'continue'.

"It was a gift for my sixteenth birthday. My friend- well we were more than friends I suppose, Sebastian gave it to me. I was only sixteen and I didn't want to go all the way with him, but he was moving to California so we kind of, I don't know, made a promise to each other to wait. The really stupid thing is that I have been waiting for him. Well, maybe not waiting for him specifically, I just never found someone to… you know."

Izzy is worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, looking as if she is uncertain of what to say.

"You mean you're a virgin?" She sucks in a deep breath and covers her mouth.

"I mean- that is to say… wow! Not that I'm surprised. Er- that came out wrong. I just meant, looking at you, I'm shocked you're a virgin, because, well, look at you. You're a total babe. I guess I meant knowing you is why I'm not surprised. God knows I wish I were a virgin. Sorry."

Her face is flushed and she looks rather defeated.

"Don't worry about it. I'll take it as a compliment. I just never met the right guy, no one I trusted enough. It may sound silly, but yes, I am a virgin."

"So Sebastian?" She quirks an eyebrow.

"Honestly, I haven't talked to him since graduation. He sent me a gift and I called to thank him, so it's been months. Like I said, it's not as if I'm waiting for him."

Izzy blows out the breath she's been holding. Shaking her head slowly, processing the information. "Well, with that in mind, I say we get dressed and head to the library, but first; coffee!" She breezes past the counter and snatches up the note, reading it quickly.

"Ugh, my brother is such a jerk. Okay, change of plans, get dressed, we'll study here, and then meet Jace for lunch."

'_Oh, no._' Clary thinks, '_I am definitely not up for more quality time with Jace.' _As much as she wishes she could spend time with him, she knows deep down it's a bad idea. She can already feel herself getting too invested.

"How about we head to the library and you can meet your brother while I study."

Isabelle clearly doesn't like this option. She's pursing her lips, and Clary can practically see the gears churning in her head. "We were supposed to spend the day together though." She whines and Clary suppresses the urge to roll her eyes.

"Lunch won't take that long, you can just meet me back at the library afterwards." She considers it for a moment before nodding in agreement.

"Fine, but you owe me a frappuccino."


	6. and a Push in the Right Direction

_Disclaimer: I own nothing!_

* * *

"I don't understand why we can't just go to Java Jones." Clary whines as they double back to her apartment to get her car.

"I told you, I get to pick since you're ditching me."

"But Taki's is all the way across town, and I'm not ditching you. Technically, you're ditching me to go have lunch with your brother."

"That's why we're going to get your car, silly. And you are _more _than welcome to join us."

Inserting her key in the door, Clary turns to shake her head at the invitation. She has no intention of going to lunch, no matter how much she wants to. She enters the apartment quickly, swipes her car keys off of the counter, locks back up, and leads Izzy to the back street where her car is parked.

"It's just that I really need to study Iz."

"It's just an hour or- Holy shit! Is this yours?" She's pointing at the Six Series BMW parked in front of them.

Clary nods as she unlocks it and gestures for Izzy to get in, "Yeah, a graduation present from my dear old dad." Letting out a huff, she starts the ignition and eases the car into midmorning traffic.

"Well, it's a hell of a nice gift." That's the understatement of the year. In typical fashion her father was overcompensating in every way by gifting her with a BMW.

"Valentine doesn't do anything by half."

"Valentine?"

"Yeah, that's my dad."

"You call your dad by his first name?" Izzy's tone is colored by surprise.

'Well, yeah, he's not much of a father… so, it's habit. My mom hates it." A horn sounds from the taxi behind them, and Clary waves her hand behind her head in a form of apology, before taking off from the light.

Fifteen minutes later, Clary pulls into the parking lots of Taki's, after a very uncomfortable conversation about Clary's father leaving them when she was eight years old, and the following decade of yearly visits and exorbitant gifts to make up for broken promises.

"Alright, let's go." Clary unbuckles her seat belt and moves to open her door, when she is halted by Izzy grabbing her forearm.

"Wait. Don't you want to put on some lipgloss or fluff your hair?" Izzy seems to be imploring her with her eyes. Clary squints at her, opening her mouth to protest, only to shut it when Izzy thrusts a tube of lipstick at her. "Here, I think this color will look good on you."

The color is a deep, velvety maroon, almost the same shade as her t-shirt, that compliments her fair skin and brings the focus to her lips instead of her otherwise lightly made up face.

"Happy?" Clary queries sarcastically, after she applies a light layer to her lips.

"Yes, yes I am." And with that Izzy drags her into the small restaurant, only for them to quite literally collide with Jace. Confusion blooms within Clary as she looks between Izzy and her professor.

"Izzy, you're late. Not that I'm surprised. And Clary, Izzy said you weren't sure if you could come, I'm glad you changed your mind."

"I-I- well-" Clary is dumbfounded by his admission, not to mention blindsided by Izzy's apparent scheming, but nonetheless allows Jace to lead them to a booth.

Shooting a glare at Izzy as she takes a seat beside her, she decides to deal with the situation with as much grace as she possibly can, and then, once they are done with lunch, she will strangle Izzy and throw her body into the Hudson River. Izzy smirks triumphantly when Jace passes them each a menu. Clary can't help but note that Jace has adopted a more casual look for the day: deck shoes, rolled chinos, paired with a light colored button up. Although, his hair is slicked back and tucked behind his ears, with a rogue strand falling across his brow.

Damn if he doesn't look delicious.

"Well, I was hoping to make it to the library this morning, but your darling sister had other plans. And who am I to deny her?" Clary looks into the golden pools that are Jace's eyes and pinches Izzy harshly in the side. Izzy lets out a little yelp at the contact, and Jace appears to be biting back a grin.

"She does have a mind of her ow-" He's cut of by Izzy.

"Simon," Izzy shouts, her eyes focused on a dark haired man standing at the front of the restaurant, shooting up out of her seat to climb over Clary and head in his direction. Jace and Clary watch in shock as Izzy drags Simon by the hand over towards them.

"So, Simon and I have decided that, in order to have a more private conversation, we will be sitting at the counter." Izzy winks and saunters off before anyone can respond. Simons eyes are wide, but he shrugs and follows her. Shellshocked, Clary turns to Jace, unsure of how to proceed. This situation seems to be getting quickly out of hand.

"Well, I don't know what that's about, but I'm starving. Shall we order?" Clary simply nods dumbly, glancing back to her menu, already plotting all the ways she can murder her friend.


	7. and Getting Even

_I combined the chapters that took place at the Lightwood's house, because I felt they were more cohesive that way (sorry if you got updates and got excited). But, I had to make it two chapters, because it was so long. So, __this is the only new chapter. Please review!_

_Disclaimer: I own nothing!_

* * *

"I'm not really sure what she's doing, I'm sorry she dragged you out here to keep me company so _she _could go on a date. I'm not sure why she even bothered to accept my invitation." Jace is pouting rather adorably, clearly put out with Isabelle's behavior. And Clary can't really blame him, she's unhappy with her as well, if for slightly different reasons.

"There's no need to be sorry, I've learned, in the short time that I've known her, that this is simply how she operates." Scoffing, Jace takes another bite of his cinnamon pancakes, before downing his cup of coffee. He can't argue with her on that score.

"She's rather prone to whimsy that one. It always freaked me out when we were growing up. How she would just flit about, completely unconcerned with how it affected other people. Not that she doesn't care, that's not what I meant, it's just, she's oblivious. In the best of ways."

"No, I completely understand what you mean. I like that about her. Well, sometimes…" Other times it could be completely frustrating, like now. Clary is definitely _not _appreciating being ditched in favor of Simon. Well, she's mostly concerned that she's been abandoned with her gorgeous professor. Who is sitting across from her, casual as can be, a slight grin playing about his lips. God, she needs to stop staring at his lips. They're making her a bit lightheaded.

Jace lets out a self deprecating laugh, "Mum and dad are much more tolerant than I am, I was raised in a much stricter environment."

"Well, I suppose parents are always harder on the oldest siblings, they tend to loosen up the further they get down the line." Not that Clary would know anything about that, being an only child and all.

"No, not by them. By my real- by my _biological_ father. He wasn't home a lot, so he always told me I had to be mature in his absence. Be the man of the house while he was away… and then he never came back. That's why I'm so grateful that the Lightwoods adopted me, they gave me a real childhood. One where I could really be a kid, you know? Sorry, not sure why that just came out of my mouth. No filter I guess. How's that for polite conversation?" His cheeks flame slightly, and he glances down at his plate. Clary can't help the grimace that twists her features, her heart aching at the realization that he has also been abandoned by someone who was supposed to love and care for him. She wants to reach out, clasp his hand in hers in a gesture of comfort, but knows that it's not her place, all she can do is nod sympathetically. Hoping he can see in her eyes that she understands and doesn't judge him for sharing.

"It's totally fine. I know all about absentee fathers. Trust me." And here she goes again, being an over sharer. She's sure it's a bad idea to get into it, especially with him. She's been known to get a bit emotional over this particular topic.

"Oh?"

"Yeah, my dad walked out on my mom and me when I was eight. I was actually just telling your sister this in the car, actually."

"I'm sorry. This probably isn't the kind of conversation you want to be having with your professor." He was right about that, but she was trying to take away some of the awkwardness he might be feeling. Settle up the score by telling him a little about herself. "Although, I do hope we can be friends. Outside of class that is." Clary furrows her brow, unsure if it's smart to have anything other than a strictly student/teacher relationship. "Would that be appropriate?" She can't help but express her concern.

"I don't see why not. I'm not suggesting anything untoward. It just seems as though, with Izzy and your friend Simon, who is not your boyfriend, we might get thrown together a bit. It doesn't hurt to be friendly, if not friends." She supposes he has a good point, although, the thought of seeing him on a regular basis, in a casual environment, sets her heart pounding.

"Okay, yeah, why not? I mean, you've already seen me get stabbed, we might as well be friends."

"Brilliant. I think a good way to start off our friendship would be to repay my sister for abandoning us. So, any ideas on how to get back at her?" He asks, finishing up his food.

"Oh, I was just thinking that I was going to leave her here."

"How is that any sort of revenge?"

"Because, if you leave too she'll either have to take a taxi or get a ride in Simon's van. And I'm not sure which one she would find more disgusting and smelly." Clary is betting on the van, and she's pretty sure that Simon will insist on giving her a ride home. She can only hope that it won't put Izzy off enough to lose interest in Simon.

"Ew, well, alright. Let me get the check and we can ditch her." Clary went to protest, but thought better of it. She had made him dinner the night before after all. He returns moments later offering his hand to her, she grasps it sliding out of the booth, and Jace tugs her to the door. They discreetly exit Taki's, glancing back to ensure Izzy doesn't see them. Clary giggling wildly, while Jace shushes her good-naturedly. Both wondering when Izzy will notice that they have left, as they head towards her car.

"So, thanks for lunch." She's blushing madly, unsure of why he walked over with her.

"Of course, I hope you enjoy the rest of your weekend. I'll see you Monday." She nods slightly and he turns, walking away, hands stuffed in his jean pockets.

"Yeah, I'll see you in class!" Jace glances back and waves slightly, his white teeth gleaming as he flashes her a dimpled grin. Clary sighs giddily, weak in the knees, a stupid smirk plastered on her face as she struggles to get in her car. And once she's buckled in, she closes her eyes, and realizes that her heart is in _big_ trouble.


	8. and the Space in Between

_So, I didn't have a ton of motivation to write this, to be honest. It just doesn't seem like that many people are interested in this, which makes it difficult to write. That being said, I'm going to post this and put this on hiatus until I can figure out if I want to continue it. _

_Disclaimer: I own nothing!_

* * *

Isabelle waits exactly two minutes to blow up Clary's phone, after she walks out of the restaurant with Jace. And she is _really _unhappy when Clary takes her sweet time responding.

*_Where r u GOING?*_

_ 12:20 PM_

_ *R u coming back?*_

_ 12:20 PM_

_ *Did youu just LEAVE me here?!*_

_ 12:32 PM_

_ *HELLO?!*_

_ 12:33 PM_

_ *Why r'nt u txtng bck?*_

_ 12:41 PM_

_ *OMG, U NEED 2 COME GET ME RITE NOW! SIMON IS TRYING 2 PUT ME IN A DEATHTRAP HE CALLS A VAN!*_

_ 12:59 PM_

_ *HELP. THIS IS NOT A JOKE!*_

_ 1:00 PM_

_ *CLARRRRRRY!*_

_ 1:00 PM_

_ *Fine, I can take a hint.*_

_ 1:33 PM_

Clary can't help but feel a little bit guilty for stranding Izzy and leaving her texts unanswered, but she is simply too annoyed with the girl to talk to her. She responds later that evening, simply saying she had to study and that they could meet up tomorrow.

* * *

The following morning, Clary finds herself camped out in the bathroom, willing herself not to throw up. She feels flushed and sweaty, and has a horrible taste in her mouth, that no amount of mouthwash seems to alleviate. She shoots Izzy a quick text to cancel their plans and curls up on the cool tiles, silently praying for the nausea to die down. Her mom brings her soup, which she manages to keep down for fifteen minutes, resigning herself to a bed of towels in front of the tub.

Monday and Tuesday yield much of the same, and when Wednesday rolls around and she's not feeling any better, she decides to email her teachers that she's not feeling well. She's not really anticipating any responses, so when she checks her inbox she's surprised to find one from Professor Wayland.

_Jace Wayland_

_ To: _clarebear u

_ RE: Attendance _

_ Clary,_

_ I am sorry to hear that you are sick, I was rather surprised when you weren't in class on Monday. I thought, perhaps, that you were avoiding me. I suppose that's my ego at work, however, that was clearly not the reason at all. All of the information we covered is available online, as always. But I appreciate you reaching out to me about your absence. I sincerely hope to see you next Monday._

_ -Jace_

_ P.S. Whenever I am feeling unwell, I enjoy a bag of those medicinal lollipops from the drugstore. I took the liberty of sending some for you with Izzy. Feel better._

Well, that was certainly unexpected. Clary reads and rereads the short email about five times before she can fully wrap her head around the message. She's not sure what to make of it. On one hand, it seems like a simple response to her own, but then again, none of her other professors bothered to email her back. Let alone send their family members on errands for her. Just as she formulating a response, the doorbell rings.

Groaning, she calls for her mom to please get the door.

"Isabelle's here!" Her mom shouts back, from the living room.

Her door swings open gently and Isabelle pokes her head around the frame, a small, concerned smile on her face.

"Hey, how are you feeling?"

"Not great, but definitely better. I'll be back in class Monday I think."

"Well, I brought you some stuff from the drugstore." She gestures to the bag in her hand and gently tosses it on the bed.

"Thanks, Iz. That's super sweet." And it is, even though Clary has no idea how gossip magazines and lipstick are going to help her. Her eyes widen a bit at the sight of the lollipops, she had rather thought Jace had been joking about those. Pulling them out, she levels Izzy with a questioning glance.

"Don't look at me. Jace asked me to bring them, which begs the question, how did he know you were sick?"

"I emailed all of my professors that I wouldn't be in class this week. You know, like we're supposed to." Clary falls back on her pillows, shoulders aching and stomach roiling with the small amount of effort.

"Oh, well, I suppose all your professors sent 'get well' gifts, as well?"

"Shut up, Iz."

"Rude. Look, I don't know what's going on with you and Jace bu-"

"_Nothing, _is going on with me and Jace!" Clary can't help but screech defensively. Already, regretting the action, when her throat screams in protest.

"Umm, that's not what these lollipops suggest," Izzy takes one out and unwraps it for her.

"Iz, he's just trying to be nice," she mumbles around the sucker.

"But that's the thing, Jace isn't _nice! _Jace is actually an ass. He likes you."

"No, he doesn't. don't be ridiculous. We agreed to be friends. That's all, it's not a big deal."

"It is a big deal, and yes he does like you. I know _that _for a fact."

"Oh, like you knew narwhales were mythical creatures 'for a fact'?"

"Oh _my _God, shut up!"

"Well, I'm just saying."

"It was an honest mistake. It could happen to anyone."

Clary really didn't think this was the case, but refrained from saying anything else about it. Hoping they could move the conversation in a different direction.

"But this, _this, _I know for a fact."

"Oh, really?"

"Yes, oh really. You want to know how?" Clary nods distractedly, a sarcastic retort on the tip of her tongue. "Because I overheard him telling my dad that he likes one of his students and doesn't know what to do."

"He could be talking about anyone."

"Really, because he mentioned the student by name. How many students named Clary do you think my brother has, exactly?"

Clary's face flushes, unsure of what to say.

"Exactly."

* * *

A/N: Okay, I really had a friend in high school who didn't think narwhales were real. Such a dork, love her though, lol.


End file.
